


Evening Coffee

by LittleLinor



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, ft. the Ibuki Defense Squad, it's like netflix and chill for people like Ibuki who don't get Implications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 11:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17827352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor
Summary: Sometimes the best way to get Ibuki to stop working is to shamelessly flirt with him.





	Evening Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> I had a request for ibumamo a while ago so I decided This Is The Day I Actually Finish A Fic For Them

It was an hour after the end of his official office hours on a cold winter evening, and Mamoru was considering finally going home when his phone buzzed with the pattern indicating a text message.  
He fished the phone out of his pocket. The message was from Chrono.  
**If you have time, do you mind checking up on Ibuki?**  
Mamoru smiled. In the year since Chrono had become the Association's youngest Clan Leader, they'd gotten much closer, a friendship that was partially due to their shared experiences in the fight against Ryuzu Myoujin and mostly enabled by how often they got to work together. Chrono was as blunt and determined as a Clan Leader as he was as a person and fighter, but combined with his strong sense of responsibility and his talent for organisation and logistics, he'd brought a refreshing breeze into the workings of the Association.  
Like calling to like, they tended to rely on each other whenever an issue came up that would take too much hassle to resolve through official meetings. But sometimes, like this, the matter they needed help with was more personal.  
**Is something the matter with him?**  
**He dropped by my branch earlier and looked dead on his feet. You're good at getting him to listen, maybe you can get him to chill? I bet he's STILL at work.**  
Mamoru thought about it for a second. He didn't have any particular plans for the evening, but he'd wanted to relax.  
Maybe he could hit two birds with one stone. The main branch wasn't that far out of his way.  
**I'll look into it. Give Mikuru my regards.**  
**Thanks! Will do.**  
He put his phone away and started packing up. While Chrono said he was good at getting Ibuki to listen, the truth was that he was just extremely good at being nice and subtly forceful at the same time, which on Ibuki usually just had the effect of making him follow obediently rather than attempt to talk his way out of things. It was less 'listen' and more 'go along with', but, well.  
Desperate times called for desperate measures.

As he entered the main branch, the staff he walked past greeted him warmly. Over time, he'd made sure to sink his roots into the more subtle social hierarchies of the branch, partly because asking the people doing small jobs was often a good way to get information or favours and partly in case he ever needed it to help Ibuki himself. For all he was officially the leader of the Association and its main branch, Ibuki was all too prone to letting himself be roped into taking on tasks that others could have taken on, and he wasn't always the best at noticing when someone was trying to manipulate others for their own advantage. Large scale things, he would pick up on, but petty squabbles and greed usually flew over his head. More than once, Mamoru had had to deliver charming and friendly reminders that trying to use their position for personal gain wouldn't go unnoticed by everyone and that it would really be a shame if investigations had to be launched.  
As a result, while a few people avoided him, he was well integrated in the branch, and when he showed up at those hours, people usually knew exactly why he was there.  
“Mr. Ibuki is in the lab,” the janitor told him with a smile as he stopped to drop a quick hello.  
“Thank you very much. Have a nice evening; hopefully people weren't too messy today.”  
“This place almost never gets crowds,” the man chuckled, bowing lightly in response, and Mamoru, after his own polite formalities, made his way to the lab that officially held the research and development department but secretly held a second purpose of monitoring Stride Force levels for any abnormalities. After what had happened a few years before, none of the people involved wanted to let a similar plot incubate under their noses again. It might not be fool-proof, but they would be stupid not to do it regardless.  
Ibuki was squinting at a computer's screen when he came in. By his lack of movement, Mamoru almost thought he hadn't heard him come in, but then he called him from his seat, still staring at the computer.  
“Anjou.”  
That Ibuki could tell so many people apart just by their footsteps was an impressive skill, although a worrying one. What kind of anxiety could lead someone to learn to take apart every noise of their surroundings like that?  
“Good evening,” Mamoru said, cheerfully, making his way to Ibuki's seat. “Isn't it a bit late to be working?”  
“I have to go through that data…”  
“I'm sure it can wait.” Before he could argue, he added, casually, “Chrono's worried about you.”  
Ibuki looked away.  
“I told him I was fine…”  
“Looks like you weren't very convincing.” Feeling a little bold, he sat himself on Ibuki's armest, not only taking up some of his personal space but making the chair turn slightly away from the computer as a result. “I have to agree with him. Excuse my bluntness, but you look terrible.”  
Ibuki's side glance levelled up to a budding pout. Mamoru smiled, and reached down to comb some hair away from his face.  
“You're doing your best here to make the Association run as it should always have. We all know that. But that's why we're worried about you. You do more than enough, Ibuki. Don't destroy yourself trying to always do even more.”  
Ibuki's hands tightened. Good. He was getting through to him.  
“… it could always be better,” Ibuki mumbled, but it was clear from his tone that he was aware he was doing exactly what Mamoru had pointed out.  
Mamoru smiled.  
“Let's go out for dinner. You need a break, and I'm in the mood for food I didn't have to make.”  
Ibuki looked at him, blushing slightly, but then looked away again.  
“I… I'm not sure I have the energy for that…” he admitted, pressing a hand to his eyes.  
“And yet you were trying to work more. Tsk tsk. Fine, then. Delivery at my place. How does that sound?”  
“I…” He paused. “… that might be nice.”  
Mamoru grinned.  
“Any requests?”  
“… sushi.”

A little under an hour later, Mamoru closed the door to his apartment and watched Ibuki stand in his living room, clearly resisting the urge to just collapse into the nearest seat.  
Mamoru all but pushed him into the sofa and went to heat up his espresso machine.  
“They should be there in about ten minutes,” he called from the kitchen as Ibuki slowly dissolved against the backrest. “What do you want to watch?”  
“… I'll leave that up to you.”  
He should probably have expected that answer. Well, that was fine. He did have a list of old school murder mysteries waiting.  
A couple of minutes later, his coffee was ready, and Mamoru added a bit of sugar to it before handing it to him. Ibuki's late coffee drinking had seemed a terrible habit at first, until he learned that when he had crossed the line from 'tired' into 'exhausted', coffee often helped him break out of his strained tension and relax enough to sleep.  
Ibuki was a man of many mysteries, even now, but Mamoru wasn't going to complain about it as long as he could actually help him. Who cared if something was unusual.  
And besides, it was better than relying on alcohol for the same effect.  
“… I'm sorry for causing you trouble,” Ibuki sighed after a first grateful sip. “… Chrono too. I should apologise.”  
“Do it tomorrow. He'll be happier to know that you got some rest.” He sat next to him. “You don't need to apologise to me, though. I'm happy to help.” He smiled, a little teasing. “If you really want to pay me back, then put that energy into taking care of yourself instead.”  
Ibuki winced.  
“Point taken.”  
Mamoru grinned. To his delight, Ibuki blushed a little.  
“And if you're not dead on your feet,” he added, leaning closer and lowering his voice, “next time I invite you we can actually fight.”  
Ibuki's eyes rose back to meet his. He stayed unmoving and silent, white-haired deer in the headlights, but although his eyes had widened, he didn't even try to lean back, the tension in his body speaking of anticipation rather than fear.  
Unfortunately (or fortunately, maybe, he _was_ trying to get Ibuki to relax and eat, after all), right at that moment, the bell rang.  
“Your order has arrived,” he teased, smiling warmly before standing up to answer the door.

They settled on the sofa with their food. Mamoru turned on the tv and looked for the film he'd been planning to watch, and was relieved to see Ibuki already thanking him for the food and starting. It might not be as good as savouring them in a restaurant, but he trusted this place's sushi; they were delicious and left you feeling both satiated and refreshed. So well balanced that you'd be tempted to keep eating more and more; the one good side to takeout was that you had to stick to your order.  
“They're very good,” Ibuki said as Mamoru sat back next to him.  
“I know,” Mamoru said with a smile. “I was looking forward to having you try them.”  
“Thank you.” He took another bite. “What are we watching?”  
As the first notes of the opening credits started, Mamoru gave him a short introduction to the director and his other works. Ibuki listened to him carefully, although his eyes never left his hands and food; Mamoru finished his explanation and reached for his own food, and Ibuki looked up at the screen.  
“… by the way,” Mamoru said before the plot could start and require attention, because if he didn't say it, Ibuki would never get his intent, “you're welcome to stay here tonight.”  
Ibuki blinked and turned to look at him.  
“It would be too late to go home, and you need the rest. You're off tomorrow morning, aren't you?”  
“I am.” He looked away. “Thank you.”  
“My pleasure. Oh, here we go…”  
They directed their attention back to the tv and their food as the action started to pick up, although Mamoru thought he noticed Ibuki sitting a little closer and a little less straight than before.

The film went on. It was long enough that they had more than enough time to finish their food; Mamoru put the packaging away and came back to sit, deliberately closer.  
Ibuki didn't move away.  
He was watching intently, as if determined to understand and remember everything to be able to talk about it later. It wasn't the first time; he was always very attentive when people he cared about shared things they liked. Sometimes even when they weren't actively sharing them, he remembered with amusement, thinking back to the times he'd betrayed his knowledge of people's favourite foods and drinks. It was, if he was honest with himself, a really cute sight. Like a student determined to do well.  
And as happy about praise and approval as one, too, although he didn't often show it openly. There was something pure and earnest about him that made Mamoru's heart warm, now that he knew him for the person he was, and not the person he was destroying himself trying to be.  
And maybe, just maybe, he was getting a little overprotective.  
But then again, it was a family trait.  
He was wondering how Tokoha faired in her own relationships when Ibuki's weight slumped against his shoulder.  
He gasped. It wasn't like Ibuki to be so forward about wanting contact—but when he turned to look at him, he realised that despite his efforts to pay attention, Ibuki had simply fallen asleep. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow, and his face finally, finally relaxed.  
Mamoru smiled. If Ibuki trusted him that much, then he was definitely getting somewhere.  
He shifted a little, to allow him to lean more comfortably against him. With barely a sleepy hum, Ibuki curled a little closer, and didn't wake up.  
“… you can lean on people when you're awake too, you know,” Mamoru murmured.

A few minutes before the end, Mamoru's phone vibrated again.  
**So how are things going?**  
**He's sleeping on my shoulder and missing the end of this excellent film** , Mamoru answered with a side smile.  
**Just As Planned. Congratulations?**  
**Why, thank you.**  
**I'll see you guys on Monday, then. Tell him hi from me if you get a chance.**  
**Oh, I already did.**  
**Wait, what did you tell him?** , Chrono's reply came, then quickly followed by an understanding **Mamoru whyyyyyyyyyy**  
He grinned and put the phone back into his pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> (and then Mamoru just puts a blanket on him for the night because he doesn't want to wake him up)


End file.
